“A strong addition to the growing canon of contemporary African films that aim to remove both stigma and stereotype.”
Whenever the issue of representation inevitably comes up, various questions are asked about how it can be achieved on film without coming across as forced or inauthentic, with bundles of tokenized stories of communities that live on the margins being scattered throughout the past couple of decades in an effort to almost over-exert this concept. Yet, it’s always been very clear that the most important aspect is simply to make the film as one would any other, and focus on genuine emotions and a compelling story, with everything else falling into place if the right balance is achieved. It’s not clear whether Mo Harawe knew that he was making a film that would not only become something of a sensation, but reveal itself as a watershed moment for Somali stories. These have rarely been given a platform such as The Village Next to Paradise, a quiet meditation on family and existence that centers around a hardworking manual labourer trying to raise his son to have a brighter future, as well as being the source of comfort and guidance for his recently divorced younger sister who has come to him for help. It is a simple and poetic story about the value of the human condition as seen through the eyes of some incredibly poignant, heartbreakingly earnest characters who have not had their stories told in such a way previously (at least not on the global stage), and to whom Harawe gives a voice in an effort to pay tribute to his country of origin and the people who he feels have been severely misunderstood through western perceptions, which are gradually chipped away in this beautiful and soulful film.
Within every impoverished or disadvantaged community there are those who settle into the banality of their day-to-day life, and those who are more insistent on breaking the cycle of poverty and giving the next generation a better chance to succeed. The character of Mamargade embodies the latter in every way, working laboriously to provide for his son Cigaal, to ensure that there is a chance for him to lead a more promising, enriching life rather than toiling in such menial work, not ever truly knowing if escape is possible. The Village Next to Paradise is a series of moments in the life of the central trio as they go about their daily routine in their small village. For each step forward that Mamargade believes he makes in giving Cigaal a better life, an incident occurs that sets them two steps back, leading to a cycle of frustration and despair that becomes almost unbearable until it reaches a breaking point in the haunting climactic scenes, where we see the narrative threads introduced throughout finally beginning to intertwine into an achingly beautiful depiction of family. Heavily inspired by social realism, which remains the most prominent style of filmmaking in contemporary African cinema (as is the case with many cultures with a colonial history), the film does not depend on spectacle or subversive techniques to leave an impression. Instead, it draws our attention through a series of interactions that are crafted to be sincere and resonant. There are many harrowing moments, especially those revolving around drone strikes in Somalia (which start as merely information used to contextualize the characters’ lives, but soon come to have immense narrative significance), and Harawe does not shy away from evoking a slight sense of discomfort where necessary, since it adds layers to an already strikingly beautiful and unquestionably compelling film.
The Village Next to Paradise is a well-made film, albeit not one that leaps out in terms of visual audacity. Rather, the ingenuity of the film comes in the relationship between the narrative and the characters that exist within it, a pairing that creates a vivid glimpse into their lives and allows them to momentarily represent broader archetypes. Each one of these characters is aspiring to a brighter future, but finds that there are obstacles that stand in their way – some are placed there due to social and cultural factors that they cannot combat, whereas others are self-imposed as a result of their own personal choices. The latter is the most intriguing, since it creates a slightly tense, pensive mood as we follow the central trio of characters in their attempt to look forward. The images are beautiful but exceedingly simple, and the atmospheric approach cannot sustain the entire film; it ultimately falls to the actors to convincingly bring these characters to life. The Village Next to Paradise is anchored by a mighty performance by Ahmed Ali Farah, making his film debut and immediately turning in impressive work as a hard-working father doing his best to create a future that he will likely never see, but will hopefully allow his son to have a better path forward. It’s a mostly stoic performance with only brief bursts of clear emotion, which makes those moments even more impactful as it allows us to see beneath the veneer of this ordinary man whose ambitions are both enormous and selfless. He’s supported exceptionally by Ahmed Mohamud Saleban and Anab Ahmed Ibrahim as his son and sister respectively, both turning in equally simple performances that are teeming with emotion beneath the surface. For all of its merits, this film is primarily an acting showcase, which correlates with the story and how everything is ultimately defined through the eyes of these individuals.
While it may be extremely simple and sometimes far too dependent on conventional social-realist tropes that we find in many contemporary African films (which does slightly soften the impact of the story, although not too severely), The Village Next to Paradise still contains a story worth telling, and Harawe carefully pieces together fragments of his culture to craft this quiet, ruminative examination of a community striving for a better life but struggling to find reasons to be optimistic. Yet, despite the sometimes haunting subject matter that contains some disturbing content (especially when the subject of US drone strikes factors into the narrative – we are so used to the vilifying of Somalia by western media, it is admirable that Harawe did not waver in his intention to show a different side of the issue, even if it is intentionally disconcerting when it factors into the plot), there is still hope embedded deep in the heart of this film, which is a quiet and resilient drama about the human condition as told by a group of people who are simply attempting to make their way forward towards a better, more fruitful life. Heartfelt and clearly drawn from a very personal place, The Village Next to Paradise is a film about the unbreakable nature of the human spirit, as seen through the perspective of a set of characters who are well-constructed and deeply authentic. A strong addition to the growing canon of contemporary African films that aim to remove both stigma and stereotype, it manages to avoid common cliches and instead pursues a more genuine form of storytelling. The film tackles difficult subject matter with elegance and mindfulness, drawing us into the daily life of a family as we accompany them on the perpetual search for meaning in a hostile world, celebrating their victories and mourning their losses and ultimately being given a meaningful glimpse into the trials and tribulations of a community striving for a better future for the next generation.